Delia faced the last flight of overgrown, weed-covered steps that led to the waterfall. The first time she’d come here, huffing and sweating, head down, she’d accidentally bumped someone. The woman had sneered at her, mumbling “fatty,” as she walked by.
It was Delia’s first time back since that day. She’d worked out to DVDs every afternoon since, in her living room with the shades drawn tight. But today, she’d felt like the sunshine on her face. She sat on the edge of the precarious cliff and dared the world to look at her.